The room had built-in bookshelves crammed full of books, favorite objects he’d found at the beach or on vacation, his computer. Joshua was an inquisitive boy, and daring, just like his father.

  Going to one of the twin beds, Caitlin bent to pull back the top covers. Straightening, she went to a chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of pajamas. “He can skip a bath tonight.”

  Without a word, Cameron gently placed Joshua on the bed. Much to Caitlin’s discomfort, he didn’t step back. “I can manage if you want to wait in the den.”

  He finally looked at her. His eyes were cold, with none of the playful charm and warmth she remembered. “I’m spending as much time with my son as possible.” Cameron began to unlace Joshua’s tennis shoes.

  Caitlin’s hands clenched on the pajamas. She had been afraid of that. The McBrides might be unlucky in love, but perhaps because of it, Cameron and his family were fiercely loyal to one another. His mother divorcing his father had made them even closer.

  Cameron knelt by the low bed, unbuttoned Joshua’s jeans, and began to slowly pull them off his legs. The sight tore at her heart. Despite knowing the futility of it, she had, at times, imagined Cameron being a part of their lives.

  She wanted that for herself as well as for her son, but the risk was too high. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow him to follow in his father’s dangerous footsteps. Today proved how right she had been to leave and keep Joshua a secret.

  At four and a half, Joshua was beginning to ask questions about his father. So far she had been able to evade them, but she knew her time was running out.

  Still on his knees, Cameron looked up at her. “What about his shirt? Will it hurt his arm if I take it off?”

  She shook her head. “No, but he can keep it on.” Aware she couldn’t keep standing there, she went to the bed. Cameron only moved back a few inches, his gaze on Joshua as if he still couldn’t believe he had a son. Used to maneuvering the boneless Joshua into his pajamas, she quickly got him ready for bed. Finished, she pulled the covers up to his chin, a useless act since he kicked them off at night, just like his father.

  “He’ll be all right if he rolls on his shoulder, won’t he?”

  The tenderness and concern in Cameron’s voice tore at her. For the umpteenth time she wished things might have been different, wished his father hadn’t chosen such a dangerous profession.

  Nodding her head, she reached over to the lamp and clicked it on to the first and lowest setting. She usually plugged in the night-light, but tonight she wanted to be able to see him more clearly. Bending over, she brushed her hand across Joshua’s head, then kissed him.

  “Good night, Joshua. Sleep tight.” Straightening, without looking at Cameron, she left the room, leaving the bedroom door open.

  “Where’s your room?” Cameron asked as he followed her into the hall.

  She couldn’t stop the hot shiver that raced over her. Cameron had been her first and only lover. He had been an excellent teacher. They’d made a shambles of more than one bed. Even broken a few headboards. Her body heated. “Across the hall. I wanted to be able to see him. There’s also a monitor in his room.”

  He glanced at the partially closed door to her room, then back at a sleeping Joshua. “How could you have kept him from me?”

  Guilt and pain splintered through her. The quiet voice didn’t fool her. The quieter he was, the angrier he was. He once told her that he had had to learn to control his emotions to race. “I wanted to keep him safe.”

  His hard gaze snapped up to her. “Make sense, Caitlin.”

  “Let’s discuss this outside.” Without waiting, she went into the family room and waved him to a slate-blue leather side chair in front of the matching sofa. She’d wanted the house to be pretty but functional, to not worry if Joshua spilled something or came inside with mud or dirt on him.

  She’d made a home, a good home for her son, but the cost had been high. Too nervous to sit, she wrapped her arms around her jittery stomach and made herself not fidget or pace as she so desperately wanted to do.

  Cameron didn’t even glance in the direction of the chair. “Explain.”

  Oddly she was reluctant. How could she explain the unexplainable to Cameron? He’d never understand. Never in a million years.

  “I’m waiting.”

  And he wouldn’t wait much longer. Cameron was a fair man. He was a patient man on the race circuit, waiting for his chance, the opening to move ahead, then he’d be fearless. He’d be no less aggressive now in finding answers.

  “Did you let another man raise my son?”

  “No.” She wasn’t foolish enough to think he was jealous. It was his son’s love and affection that concerned him. “I’m not married. I thought it would be better for Joshua if everyone thought I was married.”

  His jaw clenched. “You didn’t want to marry me.”

  Her nails dug into her arms, which were crossed over her waist. She’d wanted that more than life. Leaving him had almost killed her, but she couldn’t stay. Eventually her fear would have driven them apart or made him hate her. “I didn’t tell you about him for the same reason I couldn’t marry you.”

  Hurt he couldn’t hide flickered briefly in his eyes, then there was nothing. “I was the joke of the NASCAR circuit.”

  Her hands clenched. She’d read some of the news reports. It hadn’t been pretty. She’d cried for both of them. She’d been miserable and lonely until she discovered she was carrying their child. “That wasn’t my intention.”

  He took a step closer, bringing with him the masculine scent that was uniquely his and his barely leashed anger. “You could have fooled me.”

  Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared at the haunting scent. He was too close, too dangerously tempting. In the past five years he’d lost his youthful handsomeness. His face now had character. He was the only man she had ever loved and the one man she couldn’t have.

  “Talk, Caitlin. I want to know about Joshua,” he told her, his patience obviously strained. She couldn’t blame him. She couldn’t begin to measure the agony she’d feel if Joshua were taken from her. If she didn’t get Cameron to understand, that was exactly what might happen.

  “I didn’t know I was pregnant when I left. When I discovered it, I didn’t want to tell you for fear you’d make our child a part of the racing world I hated.”

  “You should have told me,” Cameron insisted.

  “NASCAR racing is your life. You wouldn’t be happy doing anything else. On race day, your eyes light up like a kid’s on Christmas morning.”

  “We’ve been through this before,” he said, his impatience evident by the flicker of his gaze down the hallway toward Joshua’s bedroom.

  “Yes, but that was before I knew Johnny Jenkins. Before I saw his race car hit a wall and explode. Before I sat next to his wife and six-year-old son and watched it happen.” Tears clogged her throat. It had been horrible.

  “I’ll never forget Nan’s screams. Their little boy crying for his daddy.” Her voice trembled. “After all these years, just thinking about it still makes me physically ill.”

  Cameron’s expression softened. He took the step necessary to pull her into his arms. She considered evading his touch, but it was no more than a passing thought. The comfort and warmth of his body was a lure she couldn’t resist. It had been too long; she loved him too much.

  “Sometimes I can still hear her scream, hear the car hitting the wall, see it explode seconds later, splintering into pieces, the fire, his son calling for his father.” And each time she did, she thought it could have been Cameron, who had been several cars ahead at the time.

  Her hands clutched Cameron’s T-shirt. “In the blink of an eye, he was gone and there was nothing anyone could do to help him.”

  “Caitlin, don’t. Please.” Cameron’s large, callused hand swept up and down her back. “Johnny wasn’t just a teammate, he was a close friend. His death affected all of us. His tire blew. Safety measures have been initiated in the cars and the equipment since then. Racing is safe.”

  Her laughter ragged, she pushed out of his arms. “How safe were you when you hit the wall this afternoon?”

  He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. “Very. I’m here without a scratch and it’s because of the car that I’m okay. The safety measures worked.”

  “How can you be so blasé about it?” she snapped. “Today isn’t the first time you’ve crashed.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

  She could have bitten off her tongue. She’d let fear overcome caution and said too much.

  “How?”

  Her mind sought an answer that wouldn’t condemn her even more. “NASCAR is a big business and growing. You can’t pick up a newspaper or go into a number of major chains during racing season and not see something about NASCAR. That you’re one of the few African Americans to race in the NASCAR circuit, and the first to finish in the top ten year after year, puts you even more in the spotlight.”

  “Which means you could have easily found me to tell me I had a son,” he told her, his jaw tight.

  “I won’t have him sitting in the stands and watch you hit a wall or another car,” she told him fiercely. “I won’t do that to my son.”

  “He’s my son, too, in case you’ve forgotten,” he reminded her. “You can’t make all the decisions. Not anymore.”

  “I’m his mother,” she cried.

  “I’m his father,” Cameron shot back.

  Her chin lifted. “I’m a good mother. I’ve always done what’s best for Joshua.”

  “That’s debatable, but that’s about to change,” he said.

  “What . . . what do you mean?” Her stomach felt leaden.

  “You can’t possibly think I’m just going to leave and let you have my son.” Cameron braced both hands on his hips.

  Terror sent a chill through Caitlin. “You race thirty-eight weekends out of the year, live in a motor coach three to four days every week during that time, make public appearances, woo sponsors. You’re busy from the moment you get up until you go to bed each night. You don’t have time to take care of Joshua.”

  “I’ve missed enough of Joshua’s life. I don’t plan on missing any more.” He turned toward the boy’s bedroom.

  She caught his arm, felt the solid ripple of muscles, the warmth, the strength that she had once leaned on. “You can’t possibly think of taking him.”

  “You can’t possibly think I’ll leave him,” he told her.

  “His life is stable here. He has friends here. His school,” she cried, trying to make him understand. “He has everything.”

  “Except his father. And guess who is to blame?”

  The last words slapped her in the face. Her fingers uncurled. Helplessly she watched Cameron walk down the hallway and enter Joshua’s room. Fear that she’d never experienced before coursed through her.

  Cameron might take her son.

  Cameron entered his son’s room and went straight to the bed. Joshua had kicked the covers off. Cameron’s mouth curved upward. He did the same thing. Replacing the sheet and bedspread with comic-book characters, he wondered what else they had in common.

  His mouth hardened. He’d missed enough of his son’s life. No more.

  Cameron’s hand brushed tenderly across Joshua’s forehead. The surge of love he felt for his child was staggering.

  “You have grandparents who are going to want to spoil you, an aunt and uncle who will do the same, but not as much as I plan to. I want to know what you like, dislike. Know the sound of your laughter, be there to soothe your hurts. Watch you grow up. And I promise you I will be.”

  Adjusting the covers up to Joshua’s neck, Cameron sat back in his chair and watched his son sleep. A simple pleasure that Caitlin had deprived him of. Never again.

  After the race tomorrow he was leaving California and when he did, he was taking Joshua with him whether Caitlin agreed or not.

  Chapter 3

  Silently, Caitlin turned away from Joshua’s door and crept across the hall to her room.

  She’d heard Cameron talking to Joshua. The softly spoken words had sent a stab of remorse through her. She understood Cameron’s anger. He had a right. But with a mother’s love, she knew she had a duty to protect Joshua. Her decision had been the only one possible.

  Leaving the bedroom door open a few inches, she went to the dresser and pulled out a sweatsuit instead of pajamas. She wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, but more to the point, she didn’t want to be in her nightgown if—no, make that when—Cameron wanted to talk to her again.

  She didn’t think Cameron would come into her room while she showered. He hadn’t given any indication that he still cared about her, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Whatever there was between them had to stay in the past. It would only make the impossible situation between them more so.

  In her bathroom, she changed into the lightweight top and bottom and brushed her teeth, her thoughts still on Cameron. The announcer on the television in the hospital had said Cameron had qualified for the NASCAR Sprint race the next day and was slated to be in the eleventh slot of forty-three drivers.

  If he followed his usual routine on race day, he’d want to be at the garage when the crew arrived early in the morning to check the stock car over thoroughly. Before he left in the morning, he’d want to see her. Not because he still loved her, but because of Joshua.

  Finished, she stared at herself in the mirror. There were a couple of wrinkles in her forehead that weren’t there five years ago, and her black hair was longer, but otherwise she looked the same. There hadn’t been a flicker of attraction in Cameron’s stern gaze. She’d never let herself dwell on how he’d feel about her if they met again. She’d been more concerned about his reaction to Joshua.

  She’d killed any chance for them when she left him at the altar. She understood that. The nail in her coffin was Joshua. He’d never forgive her for that.

  Picking up a brush, she pulled it through her hair several times, tossed it on the marble vanity, then walked back into the bedroom. Through the door, she could see Joshua in one of his boneless scrawls, asleep on his stomach. The covers were tucked around his neck.

  Cameron’s doing.

  Joshua kicked the covers off at least twice every night. She regulated his room temperature at seventy because of it.

  Caitlin quietly slipped out of her room and went to Joshua’s open door. Cameron remained in almost the same position in the chair with his hands laced across his flat stomach, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was used to being almost immobile in his race car for hours.

  The California Speedway was two miles. The cars went five hundred laps with only absolutely necessary pit stops, and during that time the driver remained in the race car. That ability for stillness always amazed her.

  Joshua was the same intent way when he was really interested in what he was doing. His patience at his age astounded her. She caught glimpses of Cameron’s personality and quirks in her son, like kicking off the bedcovers, more and more. One thing she would fight tirelessly against was Joshua’s following his father into stock car racing.

  She’d lost her father to racing, she would not lose her son. Her hands clenched. She’d lost her mother at the same time. She just hadn’t known it then.

  Before Cameron could notice her, she went back to her room and eased the door partially closed and climbed into bed. Cameron would watch Joshua. There was no need to worry about him tonight. Tomorrow was another story.

  Watching Joshua sleep, Cameron pulled out his cell phone and dialed. In seconds he was talking to his older brother, Duncan. He was incredulous that Caitlin had kept their son a secret. Cameron didn’t want to discuss Caitlin. He didn’t want to think of how wrong he had been about her or recall how much he still wanted her no matter how much he wished otherwise.

  “Let me get Faith on the line, and let her know she’s an aunt,” Cameron suggested.

  “You all right?” Duncan asked.

  Cameron blew out a breath. His brother wasn’t fooled. Both of them had been kicked in the teeth by the McBride curse and lying women. It had taken both of them time, and a lot of brotherly and sisterly love, to pull their lives back together. They loved hard, but not wisely.

  “I’ve got a son. That’s all that matters.”

  “What about his mother?” Duncan asked quietly.

  “She didn’t want me enough to hang around. Her choice, but she’s not taking my son from me one day longer,” Cameron said tightly. Too tense to remain still, he paced, his gaze on the sleeping child. He stopped.

  “You should see him, Duncan. He looks like pictures of me at that age.”

  “Hopefully, he’ll grow out of it,” Duncan said.

  “Funny,” Cameron said, aware his brother was trying to lighten the mood. “Hold on while I call Faith. At this time she should be in her office.” He hit speed dial. The phone was answered on the third ring.

  “You’re still all right, aren’t you?” Faith asked.

  “Better than all right.” Cameron had called Duncan on the way to the infield infirmary and asked him to call all the family. His mother didn’t watch the races, but his father did . . . if he wasn’t fishing. Duncan usually watched, but Faith, with a five-star hotel to run, seldom had the four hours to spare.

  “You have the pole position for the race tomorrow,” she guessed.

  The fastest qualifying car gained the pole position and track starting preference. Besides the driver being awarded a check, it brought recognition to him and the sponsor. “Nope, I have a son.” There was utter silence.

  “What?” Faith asked. She sounded stunned.

  Duncan explained everything and finished by saying, “He’s there now with him.”

  “I can’t believe Caitlin would do anything so heartless,” Faith said.

  “What do you call leaving me at the altar with over four hundred guests?” Cameron asked, his voice sharper than intended. “Sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Faith told him. She had always been a nurturer. “What does my nephew look like? When can we see him? Oh, my.” She sniffed. “You have a son, Cameron. Oh, my. I’m an aunt. Brandon and Duncan are uncles. Mom and Dad are grandparents. Do they know?”